


Troublemaker

by letthesongtakeflight



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Closeted Gay, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 17:09:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10881261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letthesongtakeflight/pseuds/letthesongtakeflight
Summary: Lexa is going to Princeton next year, and she doesn't have time for any too-pretty, too-careless troublemakers.Or: the AU where Lexa is in the closet and Clarke is the roommate who both fascinates and frustrates her.





	Troublemaker

 

Why did it have to be her?Of all the people who could have been her roommate in their last year of boarding school, it had to be Clarke Griffin. Lexa was going to Princeton next year, she didn’t have time for any too-pretty, too-careless troublemakers. It didn’t help that Clarke was gorgeous – not that Lexa cared. Her eyes were like the sea, not simply because they were blue or because they sparkled by the light of her iPhone at 2 am, but because they were never still and held an irreverent wildness. Over the summer she had dip-dyed her hair pink, completing the punk look their conservative uniform did nothing to hide. Tie loosely knotted, skirt rolled up two inches shorter than regulation, long, slender legs exposed.

Not that Lexa noticed.  

The only reason she cared that Clarke Griffin was her roommate was because that girl was notorious for getting into trouble. Lexa didn’t need the distraction. Not if she wanted to get into Princeton. That was what her parents wanted for her, and she owed them that much after her failure of an older sister, Anya. She remembered the disappointment on her mother’s face when Anya didn’t go to college and instead went to LA to become an actress. She remembered how her father consoled her mother: “at least we still have Lexa, she’s bright and she’ll do things the right way.” That meant college and a professional degree, then a husband and two kids and a house in the suburbs. Nowhere did too-pretty, too-careless troublemaking girls fit into that picture.

Lexa first met Clarke back in freshman year. Clarke and her best friends Raven and Octavia were on the workstation next to Lexa in the Biology lab. One moment Mr Kane was talking about cell division, the next Clarke accidentally set free her cage of mice. Half the girls screamed and bolted. Mr Kane lost control of both the mice and the class. But Lexa barely noticed the scattering mice or anything else in the lab. Except for Clarke – hands over her mouth, holding back giggles, flyaway strands of blonde hair escaped from her ponytail. Lexa was fascinated. The rest of the lab faded away.

They never spoke, and barely even saw each other after that. Over the years, Clarke’s escapades only grew along with her notoriety. She snuck off to a party at the brother school. She didn’t go to Math for a whole year but got an A. She talked her way out of punishments – for the piercing at the helix of her ear, for hiding weed, for not handing in homework. One time she supposedly met Harry Styles after a concert. He invited her to his dressing room and they slept together. Lexa didn’t believe in that one, not because it made her want to grind her teeth, or because Clarke wasn’t Harry Style’s type – she was _everyone’s_ type – but because _he_ wasn't  _hers_. 

Her mere presence in the room drove Lexa to the edge of her patience. She liked her quiet spaces, and Clarke was never quiet, never still. If she wasn’t singing in a rich mezzo while doodling in her notebook, she was tapping her pen against the desk or playing guitar or laughing at some parody video. Simply her face in profile, reflected in the mirror, bothered Lexa. The curved nose and long eyelashes. Baggy t-shirt slipping off to reveal a candy-pink bra strap, tanned legs folded against each other, blonde hair in a messy bun. Everything about her was distracting. Lexa preferred it the way it was this Friday night, when she was alone. No music, no talking, no untouchable girl. Just the tapping of her laptop keys. She was making good progress on her English Lit essay. She knew what she was doing. She was content.

The door opened with a click and Clarke walked in — walked like a normal person instead of barging in. She dropped her leather jacket on the floor and sank onto her bed, facing Lexa. The mattress dipped under her weight, sagging in the middle. Lexa could feel the blue eyes on her back, their magnetic pull. She clenched her jaw but resisted the temptation to turn around. The tapping of her keyboard grew forceful. Her point about _Jekyll and Hyde_ and transformation and the crossing of boundaries, which made so much sense in her head, refused to be formed into coherent words. All the while, Clarke’s stare sank into her back like a tattooist’s ink.

The clack of the keys stopped. She spun around, “What?”

Clarke started. Her eyes snapped back in focus. “Sorry. Spaced out.” Her shoulders were slumped and the wildness in her eyes was gone.

“You’re back early today." Lexa’s tone was softer. An olive branch.

Clarke gave a half-hearted smile. It was so out of place on her face that it made Lexa feel like there was a void in her gut. “Not really anywhere I can go,” she answered. Lexa tilted her head, unsure if she should ask. After all, they weren’t friends. Clarke took it as a question anyway and explained. “My best friends are dating. I feel like a third wheel when I’m with them.”

“Raven and Octavia?” Lexa’s voice rose in pitch, her forehead scrunching up. “Two girls?" 

“Yes, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” Clarke raised her chin defensively. “Come on,” she added with a roll of her eyes, “we go to an all girls boarding school, how many straight people did you think there are here?" 

“I’m straight,” Lexa said quickly. 

Clarke gave a little laugh. “No, you’re not,” she said. “No one in this school is completely straight." 

“I am!” Lexa insisted.

That infuriating smirk was back on Clarke’s lips. “I’ve seen the way you look at girls. You’re in the closet."

“I am _not_ in the closet!”

Clarke held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine, you’re not,” she said, though her tone suggested otherwise. She gestured at Lexa’s laptop. “What are you working so hard on, anyway?"

“English Lit essay,” Lexa answered. Her fingers relaxed into their familiar positions over the keyboard. Tension left a soreness on her shoulders and neck. She rolled her shoulders and tried once again to put her thoughts into words. What was that point again, about Jekyll’s inner demons?

“ _Jekyll and Hyde_?” Clarke said, “For Jaha’s class?” Lexa hummed a “mm-hmm” in response. “That isn’t due till like, Friday, right?”

Lexa laughed. She turned around to look at the girl swinging her legs on her bed. “It’s Monday today.”

“Exactly my point.” Clarke said with a shrug. “Plenty of time.” What must it feel like, to be that carefree? As though she didn’t have to hold up the weight of her future. As though not every day, every minute, should be spent on holding it up before it collapsed on her and buried her in its wreckage.

She couldn’t say any of this out loud. Just like she didn’t have the words for _Jekyll and Hyde_ , she didn’t have the words for how she felt. So she turned back to her essay and tapped away at the keyboard.

But Clarke spoke again from behind her. ”Why do you work so hard?" 

“I’m going to law school.” She didn’t look away from her screen.

“Is that what you want, or what your parents want?"

The tapping stopped. She turned around. There was nothing mocking in the way Clarke looked at her, nothing resembling the hint of a challenge. She simply looked curious. An innocent question. It wouldn’t hurt to answer. “Both, I guess. I know that they’d like it, but it’s not like they forced me into this from when I was three or whatever." 

“You’re lucky,” Clarke grumbled. “With mine it was always ‘be a doctor’, ever since I was born.” 

“I want to be a lawyer,” Lexa continued, “I want to help people, you know. Innocent people, who get in trouble but can’t afford a lawyer. I want to make things right in the world.”

Clarke’s smile made Lexa’s chest go warm and tight, like she was being hugged. “That’s good. What you want is what your parents want. Must be easy." 

“How about you?” Lexa asked, trying not to think about the husband and kids and house in the suburbs her parents envisioned for her. “Don’t want to be a doctor?" 

Clarke shook her head. “I mean, Biology is interesting enough but all that studying and hard work…” she sighed like she was tired of it just from talking about it. She fell onto her back and lay on the bed. “I want to run away after high school and be an artist. Either that or sing on Broadway.” 

“I can see you doing that,” Lexa said. “You draw really well. _And_ you have a great voice.”

“Thanks.” Even though Clarke’s smile was small, it brought a little sunshine into her face.

Clarke was right, Lexa did have it easy. She hadn’t thought of it that way before, not with her senior year and Princeton looming ahead. But at least she never had to struggle between what her parents wanted and what she wanted. Never had to let them know their daughter was less than perfect. Never had to see their disappointment. Not like Anya.

“My older sister did that after high school. Well, not painting or singing. She’s acting in LA.” 

Clarke bolted upright, eyes shining. “Wow. What’s she in?"

“Nothing big so far,” Lexa said, “She was in an episode of CSI a few weeks ago. And she has a small part in some sci-fi movie next year.”

"That’s awesome.” Clarke’s smile was wide enough for her slightly too-big front teeth to dig into her bottom lip. 

“I’m really proud of her, actually,” Lexa admitted what she never said out loud before, “Even if our parents aren’t."

“I’ll bet,” Clarke murmured, not quite interrupting. 

“I mean, she did what she wanted to, not what our parents wanted for her,” Lexa continued, “Chasing her dreams and being true to herself and all those Hollywood clichés. She’s choosing the life she wants for herself. It makes her happy. And I guess that’s what really matters, right?” From across the room, Clarke looked awestruck. Lips slightly parted, as though she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. The starry-eyed look gave Lexa the last bit of courage she needed. She got up from her desk, crossed the room, sat on the bed and kissed Clarke. The other girl froze for a second, but before Lexa could begin to have doubts she was kissed back. Fingers ink-stained and guitar-calloused found their places on the back of her neck.

“That’s all that matters.”

Maybe too-pretty, too-careless troublemakers did have a place in her life after all.


End file.
